


Behind Closed doors

by Nerdygeekflower



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Child Abuse, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, M/M, Secret Identity, Slash, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdygeekflower/pseuds/Nerdygeekflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a secret a secret that he hates a secret he tried to cleanse from his body countless times, a secret that is blood deep. takes place a few months after Time paradox.Will most likely have Slash Later. Rated T for Mentions of Abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post of a story about on ff.net that i wrote, about Artemis fowl and Sherlock being the same person.

Artemis ran through the London Street his heart bumping his ribcage in a painful manor. In order to remain breathing stop at the next alleyway. His brain chirped in a voice that sounded remarkably like the GPS Father had installed in the family Bentley. Father. Artemis leaned against the wall of the ally and closed his eyes. No. Not Father anymore. That man wasn't his father he wasn't the man that he had saved from the Russian mob. Artemis slid down the ruff of the brick wall into a puddle. He looked at his torn T-shirt and jeans and sighed.

Fowl Manor-Four Months ago

Artemis was sitting on the couch 'reading'. But he wasn't reading not really in reality he was listing, obsessing. Father would be home soon. He was all too aware of how very soon father would be home. He pulled his suit cuff down to hide the unsightly state of his wrists nobody wanted to see that. Nobody wanted to see it because nobody wanted to know, not really. That was the reason things like this happened because people never look at ugly things. If they did there wouldn't be anything ugly to look at.

BANG

The door was opened far more forcefully than necessary. Really, all the doors in the house will have to be replaced with pillows at the rate he's going. Artemis sighed he fiddled with his necklace and straitened his suit, no point going into this rumpled seeing how he is definitely going to come out that way. He grabbed a tight hold on his necklace and for the first time he could ever remember doing so Artemis Fowl the second prayed, not to god but to Holly. Captain, Friend, please. I need you. He was still thinking this when his father's belt hit him from behind, knocking him to the floor.

Three

Angeline Fowl was by no means a meek woman. She stood up for what she believed in and that was that. She just wasn't used to standing without her husband backing her. Lately if her husband was standing behind her it was neither supportive nor romantic, it was downright terrifying. She bit her lip and clutched Myles and Becket towards her huddled in the attic she used to sleep in. Slowly methodically she checked them over for bruises. Nope. Why Artemis, Artemis? He never hurt her or the twins, only ever their eldest son. She held them close and rocked them as they listened to the nightly chorus of her eldest son begging.

Two

Butler walked slowly towards his room in Fowl manor hauling his bag along behind him. He had been called back from his three month vacation by Mrs. Fowl. Which was odd because he knew Artemis to be at home. The Fowls were spending family time together after Mrs. Fowl almost died of the craziness a few months past. He understood they all needed a little break after all that…stuff. But he was being called home from his nice little vacation because Artemis 'needed' him according to Mrs. Fowl. Scheming again no doubt, he smiled fondly. Good it was getting boring in the Caribbean. He opened his door looking forward to flopping on his bed to relive himself of his jet lag before Artemis woke him up for god knows what to go god knows where. When he opened the door he found Artemis lying shirtless on his stomach.

"Artemis I need to sleep in the morning we'll-"

"I know can you just…" he motioned to his back which Butler saw was covered in thick painful red welts. "Then you can sleep." Artemis said quietly. Butler ran his large calloused hands over the angry welts. At this point Butler didn't know much but he did know one thing, and that was that someone had wiped Artemis and that it had been more than once it looked to Butler that Artemis had been wiped of the whole duration of the time he'd been gone.

"Artemis-"

"Father."

"What?"

"Father. He did it. Could you please…I'm tired, I'm so so tired Butler." Then Artemis Fowl II in all his cleverness and his ego, Artemis Fowl II the only mud man who had stolen fairy gold and gotten away with it, the boy who pulled off several jewel heists while most thieves his age were stealing gum. Artemis Fowl II the boy who saved the world broke down and cried. Cried in despair of treatment that he didn't deserve, cried in fear of a man he thought loved him and cried with the pure terror of a little boy who's father had hit him. Butler stood in awe unsure of himself, this had not been part of his training.

"Here let's get you cleaned up and into bed." It was all Artemis could do to sniffle pathetically.

One week

Angeline Fowl knew two things thing A) Artemis -her son not that man- was a smart boy not just by the books but had street smarts and had survived on his own -basically she had been there but couldn't really say that she had helped her son stay alive then- when his father went missing and he could survive again if needed and thing B) he couldn't stay, both her and Butler agreed this. The longer he stayed the more he hurt and it was getting worse, at this rate she would only have two living sons' by the end of the week. This information brought her to a painful conclusion and solution to this little problem. Her and Butler had agreed on it. It didn't mean she had to like it.

Five days

Angeline and Butler woke Artemis in the middle of the night quietly drawing him out of bed and dressing him in a plain white shirt and jeans took him to the airport. With a watery explanation Artemis was then given a thousand euro and instructed to get on a plane and runaway. All he did was nod he had seen something like this happing. He kissed his mother shook Butler's hand and walked bravely to the counter, when he turned and they were gone.

"I would like a one way ticket please."

"Sure, sweetie to where?" Artemis was too sad tired and worn out to tell her to not call him sweetie.

"Doesn't matter just away." She seemed unsure.

"Why?"

"How about a hundred euro and you forget the why?" she bit her lip obviously uncomfortable but nodded people could be bought so easily, especially her she could use the money to support she drug habit, She was obviously pouring most of her wages into it going by her nails and shoes. He couldn't quite figure which drug it was, probably heroine since she was injecting it in the inner side of her left elbow- her sleeve was rolled down past her elbow on the left but not the right plus she was shaking minor withdrawal it's been a few hours since her last hit. So drugs. Easy. -. But that wasn't important what was important was where he was going.

"What's leaving within the next hour?"

"Hundreds of flights come and go with in every hour."

"Pick one." She typed at her computer for a moment before handing him his ticket

"Gate 21B. All the way down that way and on the left ."

"Thank you." He paid her and left. He looked down at his ticket London here I come.

Now

Artemis pulled his limbs closer towards himself to warm up he sighed but it came out a chatter of teeth. He then started scrawling quantum equations in the muck just for a distraction. He shivered and curled tighter laying his head on his knees.

"You there!" his head snapped up looking side to side like a nervous rabbit he hoped they weren't talking to him. Don't be talking to me don't be talking to me don't be…a hand rested on his shoulder his body tensed in to a solid mass of muscle.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, what is your name?"

"Oh…I guess I don't have a name anymore…" He didn't. Not one he would use. Artemis. Not his name the name of his father and not one he would ever utter again. She smiled.

My name is Ms. Holmes," she looked down at his equations in the muck, "and I think we will get along just fine. Come with me…Sherlock." Sherlock. Huh, a bit odd but…fitting. Ms. Holmes huh? What have I got to lose? With that thought he went with her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short, just getting this all reposted from ff.net

Mrs. Holmes walked Artim- no, Sherlock, into a large house not fowl manor but it was big. It Reminded the boy she walked with (who just wasn't sure what to call himself at the moment) of the manor before his father did what he did. Homey warm and comfortable, In general it just seemed yellow to him.

  
"In here." Sherlock (He liked the name so that was what it would be that name simply wouldn't do anymore) went in to the room she gestured to.

  
"I'll be back in a moment." There was another boy in the room he was obuse but not grotesquely so he wore a school uniform and was clearly quite a bit older than Sherlock.

  
"What's your name?" Sherlock asked at last.

  
"Mycroft." He looked at him questioningly

  
"Sherlock" He said finally. Mycroft chuckled dryly.

  
"Mummy certainly has a thing for odd names you were lucky." Sherlock was confused (Mycroft didn't seem that bad of a name to have after all) but there was quite obviously more going on here. Mrs. Holmes came back and motioned for him to sit.

  
"Now Sherlock I'm sure you are confused and Mycroft surely didn't explain anything but before that I want to ask you, do you want a new life? A new home? A chance to start again? Forget clean slate I'm giving you a whole new slate. You can be whoever you want to be, become anyone. Now I'm asking you. Do you want that?" He didn't hesitate not for a second it took no thought he understood what this women was and what she did he understood now.

 

This made him see that this was a test to see is that he understood he looked down at his feet and that was the moment when Artemis Fowl, became Sherlock Holmes when he took his emotions and locked them in a secret corner of his brain in a lead lined box locked tight with a lock. Around this he would latter build a palace, the great mind palace of Sherlock Holmes, the emotions box would remain forgotten in the corner collecting dust. Until the day a certain army doctor found it and pried it open to be used again. He did this all by saying two words two words that shaped him changed him and molded him into what he was when he was found that day by that doctor.

  
"Yes, mummy."


	3. chapter 3

Holly flopped down on her sofa and stared at the ceiling. BRRRRIIIINNNGGG. Really? she just got home. BRRRRIIIINNNGGG. Fine. She got up and grabbed the phone like it was the phone's fault she was having a bad day.

  
"Holly Short."

  
"Holly, get back to Police plaza NOW we have a situation." It was Foaly. Normally a situation would admittedly bring absolute fire to her heart. The ready fire booting it's self for adrenaline and adventure. But she was only elf, and they get tired.

  
"I've had a day Foaly how bad is it really?" She loved Foaly but he was known to overreact.

  
"Fowl bad." If Foaly said anything after this Holly wouldn't be able to tell you. She was already out the door.

Police Plaza

She expected goblins and explosions. Pixies and fire. She expected all the things that went with a regular old Fowl adventure. Most of all she expected Artemis and Butler. 1 Butler and 1 Fowl. What she got was 2 Butlers and 3 Fowls. None of the fowls present had eyes that mirrored her's exactly. Her heart puttered to a halt and thumped back into overdrive loudly. Mrs. Fowl, Myles, and Beckett all looked terrified and sad. Mrs. Fowl had a bruise decorating her eye. Butler looked...Defeated? No scared...No, both.

  
"Where's Artemis? Is he okay?" Mrs. Fowl sighed.

  
"I don't know Holly. I just don't know." Mrs. Fowl sighed again before telling Holly of the past months and what had become of the man she married.

  
"Where is he?" Holly said. "I want to kill him." Foaly pressed some buttons on his computer. A panel slid back on the wall to reveal a manic Artemis Fowl the first bound to the table, separated by a wall of thin glass.

  
"I scanned his brain." Foaly said numbly. "It's been mutated by magic given to him about 4-5 years ago." Holly's heart halted then jumped again. 4-5 around the time of the arctic. She had done this. Foaly glanced at her. "Yeah I know but everyone reacts to magic differently."

  
"What do we do?"

  
"We're moving him to a fairy clinic to see if there's nothing to do. They," He gestured to the down trodden Fowls  "will tell the world he's going into rehab or something. That's common enough."

  
"And Artemis?" Mrs. Fowl looked down.

  
"He's safe. Where ever he is, he's safe." Holly nodded. It was true. He had attacked Artemis personally and him being...Away was the only thing that caused to attack anyone else. She looked down. Artemis is smart he would survive. Right?

 

London

IRISH BUSINESSMAN DECLARED INSANE. FAMILY REFUSES COMENT. Sherlock had been staying with mummy for a couple of weeks when that headline appeared on the newspaper Mycroft read every morning. Sherlock smirked and went back to his breakfast.

  
"Sherlock?"

  
"Yes mummy?"

  
"Here dear I thought that this might be useful." She held out a little box with a blue contact inside. He smiled.

  
"Yes mummy it will be useful." After all tomorrows headline would be about a missing boy, with two different colored eyes.

 

Haven

FOWL BOY GONE MISSING AFTER FATHER DECLARED INSANE. FAMILY STILL REFUSE COMENT. Holly smoothed the mud person paper on her desk. She looked at the e-mail on her computer from Dr. J. Aragon

20 Years at the least...Very sorry...Do not recommend return of...Very sorry.

20 years. 20 until it was possible that she could see Artemis again. She ran a hand through her hair. Well alright then. 20 years was a blink of an eye to a elf. Right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this contains self harm.

Sherlock was thrown, competently and utterly thrown. The reason for the throwing of him was simple Dr. John Hamish Watson. A military doctor his first real friend since deleting Artemis Fowl was an army doctor. He had even been a captain. John had innocently and unintentionally rebooted his memory segment and forced him to remember Holly. It made him livid.

 

Not at John, -Sherlock seriously doubted the fact that John could make him livid.- Sherlock was livid at Holly. Sherlock was livid at Mother. At Myles. At Becket. At Foaly, Root, Butler, Juliette. Frankly it all came down to one thing, Sherlock liked Sherlock. He enjoyed being Sherlock Holmes, solving cases, chasing criminals across half of London with John - especially with John-.

 

But there was a problem a major problem he was only fully Sherlock Holmes in the only place he was in control, the only place he could change, his mind. The rest of his body looked and was Artemis Fowl. Because of this Sherlock tried to cleanse his blood. It was crazy and manic and just not sane but he did it anyway. It started with the drugs, which didn't work but he found allowed his brain to slow down enough to have peace . But they didn't purge the foul tint his blood still carried.

  
This compelling morbid thought brought him to where was currently lying in the bathtub staring at the ceiling soaked in his own blood waiting for either John to come home or his life to end. Presently he was contemplating the later. Would John miss him? No, no probably not he had been an arse. He would probably be glad he could leave the flat and move in with Sara -or was it Lilly or maybe Jen?- without worrying he would kill himself because he already had.

 

Although it was worth noting that if he lived through the experience John would have questions. He could always say it was an what was he experiencing? no...no thats not it... wrong word... wrong bird...no. Oh, thought Sherlock it's all gone a little fluttery hasn't it? must be blood loss. No no...aw duck it all... thats when the spots showed up and they were all black how utterly dull and predictable, he was going to black out. Oh I do hope That this works I like being SHERLOCK! and I hope this gets Arte-

 

"SHERLOCK WHAT IN THE NAME OF HELL" oh. John was home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aww i made myself sad. Self harm still mentioned.

John liked hospitals, yes he was a doctor and yes he has spent the majority of his life in a hospital setting rather when he was at medical school, or in the army, or just working. That wasn't necessarily why he liked hospitals he liked them more now since being with Sherlock but even before he recognized that each bustling shuffling person had a story. He had called it people watching most people did. Watch the people, guess their story, and have a laugh. Now he could actually tell. For example the receptionist was cheating on her husband. Sherlock would be able to tell him with who and several other things. He could just tell she was cheating probably with a doctor. He smiled to himself, he had tried to teach Sherlock how to properly people watch once. He chuckled to him self lightly. He stared down into the depths of his vending machine coffee as if it was a portal into Sherlock's blackened mind and spill his secrets like coffee over a white tile floor. It couldn't, nothing could Sherlock's mind is to deep a place to dive. Deeper now than he had thought Sherlock was an idiot but this? This was beyond even him.

  
"Holmes, Sherlock?" he lifted himself tall and straight as if reporting for duty. He practically marched and along the way found Sherlock had over thirty stitches in his arm. He had told them he had slipped with a knife experimenting. Clearly Sherlock wasn't one for staying weeks in the suicide hot list in a psych ward. Clever since anyone who knew could see it happening. They were keeping him overnight for blood transfusions though. Sherlock looked like a giant perched on the hospital bed his graceful gangly limbs monopolizing the tiny space with their mass. He turned massively bored eyes at him.

  
"You absolute...You..You... I was worried!"

  
"What for?"

  
"You almost bled to death! In the loo! I can see the headlines now ; Great Genius Detective Bleeds to Death in Bath. Honorable Army Doctor Stands By Helpless As Flatmate Bleeds Out."

  
"I am terribly glad you don't write the headlines John, that would be a tragic waste of paper and ink. It was rather more dramatic than what actually happened. Although in that sense you would make the perfect Newspaperman."

  
"You better have the best bloody explanation for this I've ever heard." The situation was serious but John couldn't help it he almost snickered. Bloody, hehe.

  
"I slipped with a knife."

  
"Bullshit."

  
"Fine. Father used to beat me, ever since I can't stand the idea of his blood pounding through my veins."

  
"Yeah okay. Right. Really what happened?" John could of sworn all the light drained from Sherlocks eyes and all the tone from his voice leaving him flat.

  
"It was an experiment."

  
"For what purpose?"

  
"How much blood the human body can take losing before blood loss starts to effect the thinking process."

  
"Okay, fine. Don't do it again." Sherlock turned his face away.

  
"I won't." Huh, thought John he sounded almost... Wistful?


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock was moping. Whatever.

John turned he was making tea. Whatever.

Sherlock buried his head deep into the couch scratching at the bandages that covered his wrists. He would be experimenting but the tea maker took all his experiments for a week because his last one went sooo badly. Liar, his last experiment was on the spread of different types of foot fungi and their growth rate over time. John meant his feeble attempt at self cleansing, which he told him about.

Or tried to. Scratch, scratch. Emotions are useless John, they make me feel like dirt. Dirt, ground, grass, plants, shrubbery, acorns, berries, holly berry, Hally Berry, Holly, Butler STOP. No my name is Sherlock Holmes I solve crimes with my blogger. my name is Sherlock Holmes I solve crimes with my blogger. my name is Sherlock Holmes I solve crimes with my blogger. my name is Sherlock Holmes I solve crimes with my blogger. my name is Sherlock Holmes I ...Maybe I need help? No...solve crimes with my blogger.

Scratch, scratch. God damn he was going to pull his stitches! He's just sulking, just sulking. John sighed and put down the teacups. Scratch, scratch. That's it! John stormed out slammed a cup of tea into the coffee table.

"Sherlock stop it now." Scratch, scratch. "Sherlock." Scratch, scratch. "You're going to pull your stitches Sherlock." Scratch, scratch. "Are you listening?!" Scratch, scratc...John snapped who could blame him with a roommate/best friend/partner in anti-crime/life like Sherlock?

He snatched Sherlock by the arm mid scratch. He squeezed, just a little, just the slightest pressure. Sherlock's eyes widened incredulously, but there was something else. Something that off set John, something that did not belong there. There was fear in the eyes of Sherlock Holmes. Fear of his army doctor his blogger his friend. Sherlock hyperventilated. Fighting in a desperate manner to be free.

"Sherlock?" He flailed and shook, "No no Sherlock I'm sorry, shh, shh stop. It's me? John? okay? Okay." Sherlock blinked slowly and moved away and without saying a word, removed his shirt. "Sherlock?!" all across his back and chest there were scars. criss crossing his torso in ugly spider webs.

John had worked the ER he knew a wiping when he saw one. Sherlock wasn't looking at him. Oh, oh OH. what he said at the hospital. John leaned in and found the biggest longest ugliest scar located right above the heart, and flattened his hand against it.

Sherlock looked him dead in the eyes. Then Sherlock rolled over grabbed his shirt and his coat and left the flat. John was left feeling like an insensitive jerk on a coffee table staring at a couch with no consulting detective in it.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock sat in the window of an old abandoned building. His cell was ringing and he sat quietly watching it do so. It was John, he was sorry and Sherlock shamelessly forgave him. How would he know anyway? No one knew, he didn't even know anymore. Was he Sherlock or was he...No he was Sherlock he promised he wouldn't even think the name again he sighed and looked in the reflection of his cell. He had took out the contact he always wore he looked into holly's eye and leaned back resting his head against the empty window socket.  
"What do I do holly?" he asked. The eye didn't say anything. "He's dead you know." He says quietly "I killed him. I killed Artemis fowl."

Deep underfoot. The lower Elements

Holly woke in the middle of the night  
"He's dead you know." she sighed she often had dreams about Artemis. Less and less lately, she wished it wasn't because he really was dead. She sat up and got ready for work. He couldn't be dead. She was sure of it, she would know she would feel it. Inside her she would feel it. She looked in the mirror and touched her eye. His eye. She closed hers and looked deep into his.  
"I know your there Arty. We have un finished business." she left. Today was the day after all the day they evaluate Mr. Fowl to see if he was ready and if he was she smiled, they could finally start looking.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which I torture sherlock more.

John came up behind Sherlock. He sat in the other side of the broken window. Sherlock didn’t look at him he didn’t know how. He toyed with a pice of broken glass. Spinning it over and over narrowly avoiding cutting himself. He flipped it again and again. John’s hand shot out and caught it, Sherlock fumbled the glass and a slit opened in his finger. Blood spilled from the cut. Sherlock looked up at John.

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“I know.”

  
“I should have believed you.” Sherlock nodded and looked out over the city it was getting dark, the rain had stopped but he was still soaked. He shivered pulling his coat around him tight. He looked at John nodded and smiled before looking down.

  
“Did he beat Mycroft?”

  
“What?”

  
“Your father.”

  
“No only ever me.” John nodded he leaned against his side of the window.“It’s getting dark.” Sherlock nodded, John sighed and stood.

“I think we should get home.” he offered his hand to sherlock. Sherlock took it with his good hand and stood. The walked out of the abandoned building together.

John whistled at a cab as the rain started up again Sherlock pulled his coat tighter. He felt thrown. He didn’t know what to do. He was overwhelmed, everything was jumbled, Artemis, and Sherlock where sloshing about in his head and it was making him dizzy.

  
He sat next to John who looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Sherlock shrugged. John instructed the cabbie to go to a little dinner near baker street. Sherlock followed him in.

  
“So.”

  
Sherlock nodded John looked down the waiter came.

  
“Gay.” Sherlock muttered John shot him a look. He glanced at the menu.  
“Tea for both of us, soup for him and….I’ll have a salad.”

  
“Soup?” John smiled.

  
“You look like you need something warm.” Sherlock nodded when their food arrived they ate in silence before going back to Baker street. John started a fire and Sherlock changed into dry clothes. John heard the shower start, a good hot shower sounds great, he thought to himself. Sherlock lay back in the shower and let the water trickle down him warming him up. He knelt in the shower and closed his eyes,

Holly-running

  
Butler-dying

He clenched his fists at the wall

Mulch-screaming

  
Foaly- speaking

  
Holly-crying

“No no no no no!” he banged his fist on the wall.

Butler-shooting

  
Mother-coughing

  
Father-smiling

  
No1-laughing

  
Opal- ranting

He clenched his body tight

Opal

He banged his fist against the shower wall

Holly

BANG

Foaly

BANG

Mother

BANG

Myles

BANG

Becket

BANG

No1

BANG

Butler

BANG

Father

BANG his eyes opened he was crying, and his fingers were bleeding John was at the door,

  
“Sherlock? Sherlock?!?” He sounded scared. Really scared. “Open the door! Are you okay?!?” Sherlock turned off the shower and grabbed his robe he opened the door  
“Oh hell Sherlock” Sherlock collapsed into John and he cried

  
“He beat me John” They fell to the floor under Johns, careful control. He held sherlock

  
“I know love I know, shh shhh it’s okay.” John couldn’t even think about the fact he called Sherlock ‘love’ he only thought about the broken man in his arms and all he could think was that it was his fault.

  
“And I let him.” John rubbed in circles gently

  
“Shhh shhh”

  
“I just-I ran-I ran away John”

  
“shhh shhh”


End file.
